The Life and Times of a Psychopath
by our dancing days
Summary: "She would have been good with pepper." Once upon a time, somebody, somewhere, mentioned a cannibal from District 6 - Titus. And he doesn't want to lose. / T for mentions of cannibalism.


**Title: **The Life and Times of a Psychopath

**Character: **Titus.

**Notes: **I really hope you enjoy my interpretation of Titus, the cannibal from District 6; this is the first Titus fic out there, so a big hi to you new supporters! Enjoy!

* * *

Nobody understood me. _Insane, _they called, protected by bricks and glass and families. _Mad, _they chanted. _Out of his mind. Loopy. Loony. Gone 'round the bend. Lost his head. Mad as a hatter. _

I was prepared to enter the 25th Games. I was a willing victim, the chosen volunteer. District 6 never had any volunteers. But District 6 had never truly met me.

"Titus!" They screamed for my blood; how were they better than the Capitol? I smirked, and ran up to the stage. "We volunteer Titus!"

And so the Games began.

I wouldn't let my fool of a stylist ruin my chances. I thrashed and screamed, and wouldn't let those Capitol _idiots _come anywhere near me with tweezers or glitter. Instead, I found some old looking armour in one of my stylist's many closets, and threw it on.

My small District partner looked at me in shock in her test tube outfit, and so I just smirked at her and the crowd.

I had never been one to give up.

"So, Titus, people have been commenting on your... sanity. Would you label yourself as a little bit crazy, in some aspects of your personality?" Caesar asked, my face playful and his, grave. I couldn't help but smile at the way he took the whole matter so seriously.

"A little bit crazy? You must be mistaken, good sir. I'm _insane." _

I grinned, showing my pearly white teeth. The audience gasped, and I heard the faint murmurs of Capitol people making bets amongst themselves. I had this Game in the bag.

_Bang. _

I didn't know what started it, to be honest. I don't know whether it was my hunger, my thirst for killing, or the insane twitch at the back of my mind. All I told myself was that the tribute was already dead, but it didn't help.

That's why, the next time I got hungry, my victim was alive.

I tried to gauge the reactions of my peers, my parents, the viewers. I supposed some would be rooting and cheering, some would be hiding behind somebody as soon as I appeared on screen. Some would be thinking of me as a money-making object, another of their get-rich-quick schemes. Some would just be disappointed; disgusted, even.

But none of that affected me. If, _when_, I returned, I would be rolling in money, and I wouldn't need them, and they'd be too scared to come knocking.

"Titus, please. You don't know what you're doing," the small girl said, whimpering slightly as I took one step nearer. I secretly wondered how she had escaped the bloodbath with her weedy arms and no weapons to her name.

"Oh, but I do. I know exactly what I'm going to say to you, exactly how I'm going to kill you. Do you?" I asked her, my District partner, with a cock of my head and yet another step nearer to my prize.

She trembled, but all I saw was meat, not a real girl. This was the way I would win; the way I would stay alive. And it was a delicious way.

"You can't... you're not insane, Titus. You're not a cannibal, and I don't label you as crazy. This, this character is not you! _Who are you? What have you done with Titus?_"

"And why do you care?" I asked simply, tilting my head to the other side.

I would have to cut off an arm first, I decided, to get the flavour of the girl. I had realised, early on, that every chunk of meat had a different unique taste. This girl would be quite lean, with not much fat, I thought, tapping my finger on my chin, drawing blood.

She would have been good with pepper.

"Because I knew you before. I knew the Titus that played with his sister and talked to his friends and shouted at his parents," the little girl told me sadly, looking at her feet.

I finally gave up and raised my knife to cut her up into little pieces when her head snapped up.

"Say goodnight, little one," I sneered, reaching forwards, smelling the perfume still hanging on her skin, seeing blood pump in the veins on her neck...

"I'm sorry, Titus." The axe, which had appeared from what seemed like nowhere, came down onto my back. She left it there, hovering in my flesh, just piercing my organs. My little District partner, my little sister, started to cry. She watched me fall and held my hand, small and slender in my own, stained with dry blood.

She looked down on me, and pressed her small locket into my palm. It was open, showing a group of four people.

And so, Titus, the cannibal from District 6, lost the Game.


End file.
